Butterfly
A short story about: Cracked Surfaces yet Unbroken Spirit
Victor sits alone in the kitchen, crossed-legged on a sparkling steel table. Muddy shoes on and hair messed up. He is tired of eating the same cereal bowl on and on, “Happy Puffs” taste like cardboard. Out of the blue, he throws it across the room, smashing in pieces into the wooden cupboard.
-It’s broken, Victor.
-This was never seen.
The television talks back to him, and now he listens carefully, to the French girl on the screen.
She says that butterflies bloom in summer. At the same time, the first ray of morning sunlight shines into the room, magnifying Victor’s watery eyes, and it blinds all the white-coat doctors in the room.
It seems that winter has ended. The bowl is broken, but Victor, not yet.
-your loving karim